Confession of Love
by MoonRose91
Summary: Sequel to 'What Was Missed.' Hawkeye has said the three little words that can make or break a relationship, but Coulson hasn't, exactly, said those words. And they are back in Siberia, investigating a leak. When a trap is sprung, will the team make it?
1. Traps

**A/N: **This is _Confession of Love_, which is a sequel to _What Was Missed_, which is an in-depth look of Chapter 10 of _Cupid Has Nothing on You_, which was a sequel to _A Kiss From Coulson_, which was a sequel to the one that started it all, _To Pursue._

Read it backwards to find the order.

Not backwards, backwards! Just…read the italic order from last to first for the order of fanfics.

Yeesh. Weirdos.

-On a side note, I would like to point out that it is really late where I am right now and I am really tired, so that author's note is odd. That and my friend started to read it backwards to make me laugh, so I had to put that in there.

**Disclaimer:** I'm sure I have one. Yeah, I'm just borrowing the characters. I'll put them back when I'm done.

**Warnings: **slash, male/male kissing (which gets descriptive), mentions of sex, and near death of a canon, along with the deaths of nameless characters, plus some minor named OCs, technically. Thus the rating folks. Don't like, just leave. 'Cause this is when they start showing their "romantic" side.

**Confession of Love**

**Chapter One: Traps**

By the end of the first day, everyone was used to seeing Coulson dressed up warmly, yet in his same fashion, and shivering like mad. His constant companion was Hawkeye, who was constantly draping himself over Coulson, trying to help keep him warm. However, Hawkeye could not always be there and they often watched as Coulson shivered constantly, obviously feeling the cold in the movable base more then the others.

When Tony teased him about it, he was threatened with the taser. After that, no one teased Coulson about the fact he got so cold.

Hawkeye tried his best, but that didn't stop Coulson from chattering until a hot shower that actually made Coulson's skin turn red (each bathroom was fitted with a personal heating thing, if only because this movable base was for cold weather) and diving under blankets to press against Hawkeye. Usually at that point Hawkeye was cold too, and he happily cuddled under the mounds of quilts Coulson had brought.

They really didn't think of doing anything else because they were too cold. Well, Coulson was too cold, but Hawkeye was usually warm enough. Hawkeye couldn't wait for the space heater to get there. If he could get warm enough, he would be more helpful to helping Coulson warm up.

He was really looking forward to that.

* * *

><p>Coulson had long given up on being warm while he was here. Even after the space heaters had been added to the various rooms a week ago, Coulson was still freezing. Of course, with the addition of the heaters, Hawkeye was fine.<p>

Naturally the man was _always_ fine, but in this case it meant only Coulson was still feeling the bite of the cold, though his shivering had gone down.

Either way, spending winter in _Siberia_ had not been at the top of Coulson's list. He was also dreading what Stark would do to the base if they had to spend Christmas here. The horror story that unfolded in Coulson's mind made him shiver, though it was hidden by his shivering that was almost always there.

At least his teeth had stopped chattering.

To try to keep the blood flowing, and to stop himself from shivering, Coulson kept moving. He wandered through the snow, which hefting through that really helped keep him warm though the down side was he chilled faster as well. He shifted a bit and paused at the edge of the fake crash, his shivering hidden by his thick winter wear.

"Agent Coulson?" one of Coulson's more reliable men, Agent Hartford, called and Coulson turned to talk to him, outside, in the cold.

He _really_ hated getting cold so easily.

"Yes Agent Hartford?" he responded.

Hartford was calm and stood next to Coulson. "Sir, Agent Jones, is missing," Hartford stated and Coulson closed his eyes briefly.

"For how long?" he asked.

"He didn't come in from check-in just now, sir. Either the cold, or something else, got him," Hartford answered.

Coulson gave a brisk nod and mentally flipped through where Agent Jones had been stationed. "Very well. I'll get a party together," Coulson answered and walked back to the movable base.

This was _not_ good.

* * *

><p>Hartford watched Coulson walk away before he turned back to supervising the scientists. Well, not real scientists. They were agents with some minor experience doing this kind of work. It was rather interesting for Hartford.<p>

He liked seeing how other agents pulled together. He was hoping to one day run his own search and recovery unit. He had come forth and told Agent Coulson this. Coulson had looked his file over and had him transferred to Coulson's unit to begin training.

Hartford felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle and he carefully glanced around, while calmly readying his gun.

There was the sound of a muffled shots and everyone in the area collapsed to the ground, blood staining the snow.

* * *

><p>Coulson knew someone had walked into his temporary office due to the soft sound of a foot on the floor. Coulson was always quiet when he worked and he shifted a file, pretending that he hadn't heard. He dropped a file and bent down to pick it up, getting his already prepared gun in his hand, before he turned and aimed at the intruder.<p>

"Holy, shit Phil!" Tony shouted and Coulson glared.

"Don't sneak up on me," Coulson snapped and carefully collected the file folder, dropping it on his desk.

Tony huffed. "I hadn't tried to!" he lied, sounding like a wounded child.

Coulson rolled his eyes at Tony and then explosion rocked the temporary base, literally. The floor went diagonal and Coulson braced himself, holding his gun at an angel that would shoot neither himself or Stark with.

He was pretty sure Fury would not be happy with either.

"It seems we have had our trap turned on his," Coulson stated as the entire base was flipped over. He shoved Stark sideways as everything came crashing down, a big piled mess of office furniture that had dented the wall, but not broken through.

Coulson scowled a bit. "This is going to be a little tricky to get out of," he commented calmly as he glanced around while Stark stared at him.

"A _little _tricky?" Stark hissed.


	2. Escapes

**Confession of Love**

**Chapter Two: Escapes**

Coulson was sitting on top of the pile of rubbish, glaring at his door. "Why don't we just hop out? It's only five feet off what is now our ground. Each of these rooms are 10x10x10, with the doors smack dab in the middle," Tony questioned and Coulson sighed.

"Because we are 35 feet off from the ground after we get out of here. And I'm trying to listen if anyone is going to try and get in. So, unless you have a suit handy, or a way to drop 35 feet without severe injury, we are stuck here," Coulson answered and Tony immediately began to look around.

"Why is something so big considered movable?" Stark suddenly snapped.

Coulson glanced at him. "Because it is made of pieces that disconnect. Another reason why it is so cold. When the base is compromised, it is moved to another location which is prepared. A heavy version of what we had in New Mexico," Coulson explained.

Stark stared at Coulson then glanced around, obviously not wanting to remain in a 10x10x10 room with Couson. Stark's eyes eventually landed on the rubble pile and Coulson could practically _see_ the light bulb go off over his head.

"How attached are you to the desk?" Stark asked.

"Not very," Coulson answered after some thought. And Stark grinned like Christmas, New Year's, and any other day where he could drink as a celebration had all come on one day.

* * *

><p>It took a couple of hours, but Stark somehow managed to build something that would take the impact when they dropped from the office chair, pieces of the desk, and a lot of duct tape. "Why did you need eight rolls of duct tape for anyway?" Stark asked as he tightened something with adding another layer of the duct tape.<p>

"In case I need to keep billionaire playboys locked up in the closet down the hall," Coulson answered dryly and Stark 'glared' at him.

"Oh, ha-ha," he retorted before he turned back to the device.

"Well, it _should_ work, in theory," Stark stated.

"Anything can work in theory," Coulson answered and they carefully opened the office door before Coulson pulled himself out first, glaring at the height, before he helped pull out the odd shaped, tall, 'skateboard.'

"If this works, I get to patent it," Stark stated as he hopped up, the pair carefully settling on the device.

Coulson's lips thinned slightly and he glared down at the steep slope. His measurements were off, considering anything not nailed down had hit the ground. "I hope no one was in the halls," Stark stated.

Coulson said nothing and they released their hold on the door jam. It immediately began to careen and Coulson immediately began to balance as if he was riding a motorcycle. Stark copied Coulson's movements, since it was keeping the thing from capsizing and Coulson suddenly pulled him off, throwing them both off the object before it crashed, breaking apart in splinters and plastic.

"That…was pretty cool," Stark stated, even as he shook off the bruises.

Coulson just shook his head and stood up, drawing his gun. He glanced around and immediately began to head forward when the 'base' began to tip again. Coulson felt where it was turning and immediately rushed to the left. "I'd cling to the light fixtures," he advised and stood on the opposite side as the building was slowly turned back to the upward position, leaving Coulson and Stark on _top_ of the light fixtures and right next to the air vents which circulated the air, but neither heated nor cooled the base.

Coulson immediately popped the cover off and climbed in. Stark followed and Coulson shoved the cover back into place. He held his gun calmly and began to move slowly. "Which way to my room?" Stark asked and Coulson looked thoughtful, before nodding past Tony. He sighed and turned, heading back.

* * *

><p>Hawkeye scowled at the guys who had gotten him and Natasha while they were doing patrol.<p>

He _hated_ being one-upped and with Natasha and himself tied across from each other, hope of escape was low at this time. These guys were taking no chances and they were under constant, human, surveillance. "How did they sneak up on us anyway?" Natasha demanded, obviously more pissed about that then being captured.

"We were a bit distracted with the base being _flipped_ onto it's side," Hawkeye answered calmly, carefully trying to see if he could slip one of his fingers out from where his hands were bound.

The gun training on him stopped the minuet movement.

They were in deep shit.

* * *

><p>Thor and Captain America had been in the sitting room when their base was flipped the first time.<p>

Luckily, their enhanced strength had saved them as they were able to brace against the heaviness of everything _falling_ on them with only minor injuries, and then toss it to the side. Thor had Mijolnir in his hands in seconds, while Captain America readied his shield. Thor looked around and then used the pile of rubble to get to the top, pausing to assist Captain America up to the door before both left the room.

They had not been walking long before the base began to groan and tip again, this time heading back for the original position. Thor immediately braced himself, used to sudden shifts of gravity when his brother had been in a 'playful' mood once. When it was stabilized again, both warriors rushed through the halls, moving to confront the enemy.


	3. The Enemy

**Confession of Love**

**A/N:** Sorry for not updating sooner.**  
><strong>

**Chapter Three: The Enemy**

* * *

><p>Clint and Natasha had been playing a version of 'I Spy' that was slowly, but surely, driving their guard on this shift insane. "I spy with my little eye something…white," Clint stated.<p>

"Is it snow?" Natasha asked.

"No."

"Frosted ice?"

"No."

"Me?" Natasha asked, fluttering her eyelids a bit.

"Bingo. Your turn," Clint answered.

"I spy with my little eye something…yellow," Natasha stated.

Clint looked thoughtful. "Is it the sun?" he asked.

"No."

"Something behind my back I can't twist around to see?"

"No."

"Is it our guard?" he asked.

"Yep! Your turn," Natasha answered cheerfully, while the guard tightened his grip on the gun.

And…repeat. The exact same words, the exact same inflections, in a never ending circle between them. The pair never got bored, as they were bored without anything to do. Now, if the guard got wise and _gagged_ one of them…oh, wait. That's what they wanted.

Another hour and they would break him. Maybe sooner.

They'd start it all over again if they got a new guy before this one broke. Just needed him to turn his back on one of them, either of them, and they'd be free. Free to go running off and away.

They just needed _time_.

* * *

><p>Phil easily dropped out of the vent behind Stark into the billionaire's room. Everything was in shambles and Stark pulled out his transportable suit, as the big one was at the main arctic base.<p>

It was next to impossible to put on without aid.

Stark activated it and it easily covered him, protecting Stark. "Let's go find the others," Stark stated once the face plate was over face.

He strode forward and Phil followed, drawing his gun. The entire base was decimated and Phil shivered underneath his outfit. Even the gun twitched and Phil glared at his hands.

Unsurprisingly, to Phil, his hands stop shaking even as the cold he was feeling grew. He bit back his chattering teeth and moved down the hallway, using Stark as a shield. Iron Man was bullet proof, Agent Phil Coulson was not.

He hated the cold as well and knew his reflexes would be down. Stark, warm and safe in his suit, would be fine. As Phil walked along, the sound of running reached his ears. He braced himself and resisted the urge to groan when he saw Thor and Captain America rush in. "Son of Cole, Stark," Thor greeted while Captain America gave a slight wave.

"It's just Coulson, Thor. Did you run into anyone on the way here?" he responded, immediately settling into command.

"No. It was all clear, sir," Captain America answered and Phil resisted the urge to pull a face.

He let it go, however, as Coulson doubted Captain America would ever call him Coulson. It took forever to get Stark to lay of the insulting nicknames, and he still pulled them sometimes.

Phil gave himself a vicious shake and cleared his head. "Hey, you're not shivering anymore," Stark pointed out and Phil ignored him, walking along.

The others quickly took their usual positions, putting Phil in the back. He looked behind them, carefully watching. He didn't like this and suddenly, he heard the sound of one of the boxes being disconnected.

The one he was in.

He let out a curse and ran, breaking the formation they usually kept on the rare times he went on missions with them, barely getting out in time as the box he had been in was slammed out of position. Phil turned and held up the gun, firing with good enough accuracy for government work.

He didn't even twitch at the fact the Ten Rings was heading toward them. Five men went down before Stark and Captain America took over.

Thor didn't like fighting against normal men unless he had to.

Or they pissed him off.

Or insulted his Lady Jane.

The list continued from there, really. Phil knew it was only a matter of time and he fired again, taking out two more men with four bullets. Then the clip was empty. It dropped into his waiting hand and he reloaded quickly before he fired off again.

"Coulson, we need to retreat," Stark stated. Phil glanced back and nodded.

"Retreat," he called out and pulled back first.

The arms wrapped around him and yanked him out of sight, stabbing a sedative not so gently into neck, but not harsh enough to kill him. He was out quickly, all the while cursing the enemy.


	4. Wake Up

**A/N: **WOAH! Long time without an update, sorry everybody! *laughs nervously* I thought I had updated this. Oh well!

Anyway, here's Chapter Four.

**Chapter Four: Wake Up!**

Clint and Natasha had switched from the 'I, Spy' game to the 'I Know the Song That Gets on Everybody's Nerves' game. They had continued it for a solid fifteen minutes and already their guard was cracking. They just needed to get a little more time and…

They were barely able to keep the smirks of victory off of their faces as the guard snapped and put his gun to the side. He stepped over to Clint, moving to gag him and…Natasha's legs snapped up, _slamming_ into the guy's lower back. He pitched forward and his shout of agony would have probably alerted any other guards, if it weren't for the fact that Clint hurt something leaning forward and _slamming_ his head into the guy's throat. He went down with a strangled cry and Natasha was already moving, helping Clint get free.

They hurried to the exit, Natasha grabbing the gun as they went and paused as they got to the door. Through various hand signals, they worked out a plan, with Clint getting the gun. Between the two of them, Natasha had a better chance of standing up to them in hand-to-hand combat then Clint. They settled and then slipped out of their 'cell'.

And into the cold.

They nearly jumped back when Clint looked around. "Nat," he called softly and nodded. They shifted around and Clint gripped the weapon he held a little tighter.

Their 'cell' had been one of SHIELD's moveable bases. They glanced at each other and then, carefully, began to make their way across the snow, being sure to make it hard for them to be followed. Clint pulled Natasha into a shadow of some rocks and peeked around, with Natasha, to see what they were dragging.

"The garbage!" she growled lowly and Clint nodded, seeing their companions being thrown into various places.

They were all unconscious and Clint's eyes narrowed. "Phil is gone," he whispered and Natasha looked over her shoulder, eyes narrowed.

Clint held up his hands and, after having a hand sign only argument, agreed to go find the original encampment and inform Fury. Clint seemed to rankle a bit at that, but obeyed and followed Natasha's lead. Soon, they had a hotwired truck and went blazing away, Clint ready for any who might follow. "You feel this is too easy, don't you?" Clint asked.

Natasha kept silent, her eyes focused on the road.

* * *

><p>"Wake up!" a rough voice demanded and Coulson ignored him, letting himself sag against the bonds that held him up. He willed himself to stay relaxed as someone grabbed his chin and forced him to look up.<p>

Coulson just kept forcing himself to relax, forcing himself to give a slack expression, and refusing to let his body wince every time his head got jerked around. They really knew how to stab someone in the neck without killing them and he resisted the urge to hiss as his head was dropped down. "Sir, we have a problem!" one of the men suddenly stated.

"What?" the leader growled.

"The agents we caught earlier, they're gone. The guard has a bruised windpipe and the gun is gone," one of the men stated and Coulson forced himself to keep relaxed.

If Natasha won the argument, that meant they were on their way to Fury. If they were on their way to Fury, that meant help was coming soon. "Sir? One of the trucks is on the move," another voice stated and Coulson quietly cursed them all in every language he knew.

"Intercept it and bring them back! I want them alive!" the leader ordered.

"Yes, sir!" the men responded and the cold, that biting, evil, cruel cold swept through, sapping all of Coulson's will to _not_ shiver.

The leader leaned on the spot between his shoulder blades, putting pressure on his shoulders, wrists, arms, and his back. He went with the movement and he could _hear_ the man's smirk in his voice. "I didn't say _uninjured_ Agent Coulson," the man reminded, but Coulson did not react.

Inside, however, he raged at the men that held them captive while hoping that Clint and Natasha would be able to get away from them. Distantly, he worried about the Avengers, trying to see if he could overhear anything on their condition or position. Were they even _ alive_ still?

His arms were burning now as the man put more pressure in that space between his shoulder blades, but Coulson did not budge. He did not tense, even when his instincts _ screamed_ at him to put a stop to it before his arms got broken. Suddenly, the pressure was off of his upper back and the leader walked around. "You know, this silence, it is irritating. And I can't break your mind or you can't tell me what my boss wishes to know. And if I cannot get that information my goose, as you say, is cooked," the leader stated, a trace of accent slipping through instead of the neutral accent he had earlier.

Coulson immediately began thinking about where he had heard that voice before.

He focused on those thoughts as he considered, questioned, and thought his way through the man's words. Casual threats were made (broken fingers, broken shins, those usual things that happened when someone of a high position was caught) and the words washed over him like water over a duck's back. He was jerked out of his thoughts, though he refused to let it show, when his face was suddenly grabbed and the leader lifted his face up. "Wake up, Agent Coulson, or I'll go after your pretty-boy archer next," the leader snarled.

Coulson nearly reacted and his face was dropped, again his neck twinging painfully. "Ah well. We'll execute him first, then, in the snow, while you watch," the leader stated and the cold swept through the room again, freezing Coulson.

Only, this time, he barely felt it.

He already felt frozen at the threat to Clint's life.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Sorry it is so short.


End file.
